Suicide Pack
by KaguyaHiroshima
Summary: Suicide Squad AU. Marin Morrell has spent months collecting the worst of the worst. But these creatures of the night were only the beginning, and sometimes you have to fight fire with fire, thus task force N was started. A suicide squad or perhaps a better phase would be Suicide Pack? I don't own any art or characters
1. Prologue

"It's taken a lot of work, but I finally have them, the worst of the worst." Echoed the words of a striking young lady, sitting around a round table in one of the most lavish restaurants in Beacon Hills. One that this evening was empty, rented to the very lady now speaking her mind. Her eyes flicking over the gentlemen that surrounded her, heads of national security, government officials and associates that she'd invited out that evening to discuss her plans.

"There are rumours that some of them have abilities, and some aren't…human." One of them men asked, an Argent none the less. One growing weak and old, but one whose words held power and authority. If Marin Morrell was to convince anyone this evening, it was going to Gerard, and so she maintained eye contact with him every chance she got.

"The rumours are right. You know what the problem with a shapeshifter is, the human part. We got lucky with Talia Hale, she shared our values. The next supernatural creature might not." Marin explained, waiters silently bringing out food and placing it in front of their guests, each taking a few seconds before they picked up the cutlery surrounding the plates.

"You're playing with fire Marin." Gerard muttered, looking over at the light brown skinned woman, avoiding her deep brown eyes. She smirked, looking down towards her food and taking a bite before answering.

"I'm fighting fire with fire."

"You're not going to pitch that task force N project of yours again, are you?" Gerard laughed, looking over at his dinner companion, a lady who'd managed to hide her emotions for several years and wasn't going to start showing them now.

"Yes, but this time you're going to listen." She said, grabbing a file from the bag she'd brought along that evening and placing it carefully on the table, Gerard looking down at it in confusion. She flicked open to the first page to reveal the picture of a boy, no older than 17 and a collection of information organised around it.

 **Scott McCall AKA Alpha**

Werewolf | True Alpha | Fangs & Claws

"He's the most hunted Alpha in the world, they say he has an elite contact list." Marin explained, her quiet and monotone voice captivating the men around, their interest clearly sparked.

"I'm amazed at how powerful you think you guys are." Scott muttered down to the wolf, groaning as he spit up another wade of blood. Blood which puddled around his crumpled body, a pipe protruding from his stomach as two other boys stood, smirking at their handy work.

"I wanted to take on the Alpha, not his pets." The injured wolf panted, trying to still maintain a tough exterior despite the gaping hole in his body.

"They're not my pets, they're here to see if your worth my time." Scott said, crouching down in front him, then glancing up at the twins who were rolling their eyes in boredom. "And they don't think your overall worth it." He added, looking up to the Twins who nodded and returned to beating the creature, all while Scott watched on.

"But everyone has a weakness and a weakness can be leveraged. His is a overworked lady in Beacon Hill Memorial Hospital, his mother. So, we watched her and waited." Marin explained, taking another bite while the men around her listened eagerly.

"And you caught him?" Gerard asked, perhaps the least impressed of them all, but that only brought a devilish smile to her face. She'd chosen this list carefully in the hopes of interesting him, thus she picked out people who he knew all too well. Starting with Mr, McCall was the obvious choice to catch his attention.

"Not me, I just gave an anonymous tip to Beacon Hills. So now we have the man who is the perfect Alpha." Marin smirked, watching the old man sulk away as he continued to eat.

"Everything that you've been doing. The extra reading, the summer school... Saving up for the bike even though it scares me half to death, I - Honey, I just didn't want to disrupt a good rhythm." Melissa said, her son looking into her eyes as they sat on the porch of their house.

"It's not gonna stop. I'm gonna be better this year. A better student, a better son, a better friend, a better everything. I promise." He replied, enthusiastic at the idea of being something more than a wolf, hoping to appease his more human nature, to be more than just a killer at heart.

He was making progress and the pride in his mother's eyes on encouraged his change of attitude, he wanted to make a difference now, he didn't want his past to overshadow his future, and he even felt like his packmates were feeling the same way.

With a hug, his mother stood up, ready to head back into the house. "Now, I'm going to be working late so-" She began, before a black SUV pulled up in front of them. Melissa giving Scott the look of _cover your ears as I use some profound language_. But before she could utter a sound, several armed men, dressed in black hoped out. Shouting and pointing their loaded weapons at the two.

It took only a couple of seconds before Scott's werewolf instincts to kick in and he leapt up, slashing and biting at the soldiers before they fired off a few shots. The pain ripped through his body as he crashed to the ground, still swinging as he continued to fight. He wasn't going to be taken down by mere bullets, yet more pain tore through his skin, the warm feeling of blood tricking over his body.

"Stop!" Screamed out his mother's voice, Scott's glowing red eyes looking up towards his mother who was pushing through the arms of the men, crouching down beside her son. "Scott?" She cried, cupping his face in her hands before looking back at the soldiers.

"Mom…" he sighed, trying to focus his vision as he felt his skin slowly begin to stitch itself back together.

"It's okay. But you need to go with them." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes, Scott's own heart pounding hard against his chest.

"No…I can."

"Scott, please. I don't want to lose a son today." She said, as Scott's featured slowly changed back. Closing his eyes, he listened closely to his mother's heart before opening his eyes to see a face he wouldn't soon forget; An Argent.

"So, where'd you put him?" Gerard asked, memories of what his men had told him must have come flowing back to him by the way he spoke. Marin was all too familiar with how Kate Argent had nearly killed one of her now most treasured pieces, a True Alpha. While her father here had power, he certainly wasn't her favourite contact.

"Let's just say I put him in a hole and threw away the hole." Marin smirked, Gerard showing a hint of annoyance at the remark. But Marin wasn't new to his mind games, she was here to convince him to let her run this project, not tell him where she hides her treasures.

 **Lydia Martin AKA Banshee**

Banshee | Hears Voices | Screams A Lot

"Before a crazed werewolf attacked her she was the most popular girl in her school, straight A's though she'd never admit that to anyone." Marin said, flipping over to the next page that showed a strawberry blonde girl, again no older than 17. "While we're aware McCall has contacts, his list is nothing compared to her. She's helped a lot of bad men do a lot of bad things."

"Tell me what she said." Shouted an animalistic looking man across the table from the strawberry blonde girl. She stared lifeless at the claws embedded into the wall, hearing whispers all around her as she tried to drown out the rest of the noise. She lips hanging open as her head tilted, her eyes squinted as the cogs in her head spun.

"Banshee?" Screeched the man again, taking a step towards her, pausing as she slowly turned around a stared him in the eyes. A cold stare, one that wasn't just lifeless but hollow and filled with such darkness that could drive a man mad.

"You don't want to know what she said." She whispered, her voice coarse as the sounds still echoed around her head. The man seemed only enraged by that notion, as he took a few steps before he was stopped in his tracks by an electrified baton. His gaze following it to a second young lady with dark brown hair. "She only says hurtful things."

"Tell me!" he screeched, unconsciously taking another step forwards which only convinced Lydia's companion to strike him with said baton. He was down on the ground as Lydia seemed to fully regain her own consciousness, and she smiled down at the man with terrifying amount of glee.

His eyes looking up as the dark-haired girl took Lydia's hand and whisked her away, "Now we're leaving." She said, just before slamming the door closed behind her and disappearing.

things."

"But the loss of her friends drowned out all other noise, and with a little help from Mr, Raiken, she was in the same hole as Alpha." Marin said, looking over at a very disgruntled Gerard whose gaze slowly moved up to meet hers.

"Do she speak of any of them?" He asked, curious as to how much Marin would be willing to give, and to his disappointment, she met him with a smile and said the words he didn't want to hear.

"Sometimes she speaks of those who share the cell block with her now. But Allison, she hasn't a word about." She said, taking another bite as though she was emotionally torturing the old man. "Though perhaps with this Project, she'd be more open to talking." A quick, yet subtle shake of the head and Gerard was catching on to her tactics. But Marin could taste the victory she'd come to achieve that night, and she wasn't even close to finishing just yet.

"And have you heard of the immortal Hell-dog?" She added after a brief pause, once again flipping the page to a man older than the other two, his age reading 24 and most recent profession being a police deputy.

"How'd you catch him?" Gerard asked, now unfamiliar with this case. It was perhaps the only one he'd had no involved with himself, thus the fresh face alarmed him, especially one from our own task force.

 **Jordan Parrish AKA Hellhound**

Hellhound | Immortal | Likes Setting Himself On Fire

"We didn't, he surrendered. Jordan Parrish, on the streets they call him Hellhound. This deputy was a fine example of law enforcement, till someone tried to burn him alive. Walks out and into that deputy station and down in crumbles, within seconds. The security video is incredible." Marin explained, flipping the page over to listen to the sigh from Gerard as he looked at the image.

One of the other seated dinner guests commenting, "Oh Jesus, who the hell is that?" as he looked at the lizard in the picture, unable to determine what exactly they were saying. All except for Gerard of course.

"His name is Jackson Whitmore. A wise man once said that sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are."

 **Jackson Whitmore AKA Kanima**

Kanima | Paralyses People | Was Supposed to Be A Dog

"He looked like a monster, so they treated him like a monster, and he became a monster. He was killed by the Hale's and came back as a werewolf." Marin began, looking down at the reptilian image before looking back up at Gerard. "Only he was never fully a werewolf. He went searching for sanctuary. He never found it."

"Quite the team you've managed to assemble thus far Ms, Morrell." Gerard complimented, one filled with venom as he scowled across the table at her, but while she'd listed off several, the was one she'd yet to mention.

"I saved the best for last." She said, looking up at the impatient old man, once again flipping over to the final page she'd brought to reveal yet another young boy, 17 and perhaps the least threatening appearance of them all. "The Trickster."

 **Mieczyslaw "Stiles" Stilinski AKA Void**

Nogitsune | Possessed by an Evil Spirit | It's Very Evil

"A Trickster?" Gerard asked, unfamiliar with the term used, a term that was more of a description than it was a species.

"I'm talking a deceptive, teleporting, demon controlling spirit. A 1000-year-old dark Kitsune spirit, the only one." Marin said, a small smirk that caused pause in everyone's movements. "Stiles. A boy way in over his head, a sacrifice to ancient tree. She opened a door he should have closed, releasing a spirit more toxic than anything we've encountered. Void."

"An ancient evil deity…chose to possess a 17-year-old boy?" Another of the men asked, Marin carefully placing down her cutlery, holding her hands up to her face, while her elbows rested on the table cloth.

"Where better to hide? He hid for weeks inside the boy, it was too late by the time anyone realised what he was."

"But do you have the host, or the spirit?" Gerard inquired, holding the paper in his hand as he read over the information. Marin knew why, Stiles wasn't just the host of an ancient spirit, he just so happened to be a close ally of McCall. In fact, all of them knew each other and at some point, worked together. A perfect team of, while young, experienced creatures of the night.

"Well they are one in the same, you can never be sure which one your talking to."

"So, what makes you think a powerful ancient spirit who control demons, won't just send them in to kill you?" Came another voice, the voices of men that were growing on Marin's nerve. Ideally, she would have preferred a one-on-one meeting with Gerard, but naturally he doesn't go anywhere without advisors.

"I don't control the spirit, the boy controls the spirit. And I control the boy."

"And how do you do that?"

"With wolf lichen. Poison to a fox. Without it the spirit would overtake his mind." Marin said, pulling a small vile out of her bag and placing it on the table. The men looked at the small thing questioningly, wondering how such a small, seemingly meaningless thing could control such an old spirit. But every species has a weakness, you just have to know how to exploit it.

"You want to put our national security in the hands of demonic spirits, flammable dogs and a snake?" Gerard said, the file now consuming his interest, glasses on as he flicked through the pages yet again.

"Don't forget the screaming woman."

"Wailing woman." Marin interjected, a raised eyebrow at the man who has spoken. A man who looked at her confused at her correction. "A Banshee is a wailing woman, screaming just drowns out the noise."

"These are animals Marin, what makes you think you can control these kids better?" Gerard asked, looking up at the woman who was now sat patiently with her arms crossed.

"Because getting people to act against their desires is what I do best, I did spend my entire life learning to do it."

"And it worked out so well with your last experiment." Gerard smirked, he was clearly hoping to push Marin's buttons, but unfortunately, she kept her calm exterior, reaching into her bag and pulling out another file.

"Well I've got Braeden heading the entire operation."

 **Braeden**

Gun for Hire | Dating a Werewolf | Scars are Beautiful

"No last name?" Gerard asked curiously, looking over his glasses at Marin.

"She does a fine job without the need of surnames. She does whatever she's hired to do."

"You have a lot of faith in her?"

"Of course, she has always fulfilled her end of the bargain."

"And you truly believe you can control all these creatures. Including the…Spirit?" Gerard asked, an optimistic tone littered through his question, now unable to break eye contact with Marin.

"I know what makes them all tick. In a world of massacres, demons and things that go bump in the night. This is the only way to protect our country."

"And what happens if you can't control them?" Gerard asks, closing the file and placing it on the desk.

"They're monsters, your Argents. Do what Argents do best." Marin said, Gerard holding up his wine glass, the other taking theirs up, and finally Marin raised hers.

"In the morning we authorize Marin Morrell to establish task force N under the Argent program." With the clink of glasses and a sip of wine down Marin's throat, she left the evening knowing she'd completed her first move in a mind game with Gerard Argent, and she had all the best pawns.


	2. 1

Eichen House –

"Up and at 'em boys." Shouted one of the guards, banging his baton against the white metal bars that imprisoned the worst of the worst. Some days it felt less like an inescapable hold and more like an underachieving mental institute. Half the staff were orderlies who enjoyed the idea of mentally scaring prisoners so much so that Eichen had some of the highest suicide rates.

If it wasn't the orderlies, it was the prison guards, lead by Brunski. They were always making vulgar comments, tasering people every chance they got and while admittedly these prisoners were dangerous, Brunski was the worst.

Scott had been up for several hours before the klaxon had rung for morning. Occupying his time with push-ups, pull-ups and any other exercise routine he could think of. He was sweating profoundly, and it could see in the eyes of guards passing by that they could smell it. But hey, it's not like he had anything else to do.

But he was interrupted with the loud bang of a foot kicking his door, a trick the guards thought was funny for some with super hearing. Scott's eyes flicked up towards the door from his push-up but otherwise maintained his rhythm, a kick at the pantry door wasn't exactly cause for concern.

"McCall, brought you breakfast." Called the voice, presumably the one who owned the foot that struck his door. Scott's eyes turned back to the ground, choosing to ignore the humans that were giggling amongst themselves. But it was followed by another kick at the door. "McCall."

"I'm not hungry." Scott growled back, feeling his sweat drip from down his back and onto the concrete, his brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate on something else.

"Really, because I recall that you haven't eaten anything in the past 3 days." The guard laughed, pausing as he watched Scott come to a stop. The wolf hoping up to his feet and walking over to the door, watching the guard twitch slightly.

"Are you going to throw a lettuce through the hatch?" Scott asked, and after a few seconds the guard threw a plate of lettuce through the hatch and then smirked at him.

"You don't like our vegetarian options?" The guard laughed, a few of his colleagues wandering off, clearly thinking the joke was more than sufficient.

"I can go weeks without food and still be able to rip you throat out with my teeth." Scott said, kicking the door back as he backed up into the cell.

"Are you threatening a staff member?" Then guard pestered, staring intently through the open hatch.

"Come in here and it won't just be threat." Scott growled, his eyes glowing a fiery red as he bared his canines. The guard almost hesitant to open the door, but alas he called a few others and they restrained him. A quick strike with an electrified baton that were a high enough voltage to kill a normal human. Scott's limbs tensed up, shaking uncontrollably as the guards chuckled, practically skipping from the room as they slammed the door shut.

Further down the hallway was a large steel enclosed room, one that had another steel room in the middle, and another not too unlike a Russian doll. This was where Lydia spent her days, locked behind several walls of thick reinforced walls in the hopes they'd drown out her screams.

After passing several doors, a guard finally reached the bars of the own cage, where she sat staring at the ground, tracing her finger along the floor as though the was writing something.

"Bullying the wolf again?" her voice echoed off the wall as her eyes gazed up at the guard who stood a foot away from the bars.

"It doesn't involve you Banshee." He hissed, passing a plate of sludge through the bars, a move he quickly regretted as she leapt forward grabbing his wrist.

"Forget the rules?" She whispered, gripping the man's arm tightly in her grip, grinding the bones as he winced, shouting into his radio. But it took them several minutes to reach her cage.

In that time, she'd managed to break his wrist, twisting it around and in a fit of panic the guard had struck her with the electric baton. They watched her giggle as her body convulsed on the floor, dragging the guard out and slamming the door shut without another word.

Three other cells were still to been checked in on, two more on this first level. A metallic container that had a warning label reading 'Caution: Hot' plastered to it. The other cell being one not too unlike Scott's cell, in fact they were opposite each other. Both surrounded and built from mountain ash, except unlike Scott's cell, this one had a line of mistletoe that the guards were never able to remove.

"What happened this time?" Called the voice of the mistletoe cage, inside perhaps the weakest looking of all the prisoners. Nothing more than a boy, a pale and sickly boy at that. Parts of his arms and neck were covered in Lichtenberg Figures, some fainter than others.

"Keep quiet." A guard snarled at the boy, a boy who was only sitting mindless in the middle of his cell. He almost appeared to be meditating as the guard approached, sludge on a plate that he slid through the hatch.

"I can feel everything." He muttered, his eyes opening to reveal a strange glow in his eyes. A silver, metallic sheen over his iris that faded in and out. "I can feel the pain."

"Look, can you all stop talking and just eat. I'd rather you all be alive when the boss shows up." The guard said, peering through the hatch into the eyes that seemed to be peering into his soul.

"I wouldn't talk to him if I were you." Scott shouted, almost laughing as his voice resonated out of his cell, distracting the guard for only a mere second. His eyes only flicking back when the sludge fell back out of the hatch. Looking into the cell and seeing what looked like a 5 on the wall just behind where he had been sitting. The boy stood, staring at the five before giving a sideways glance to the guard. The hatch slamming shut as the guard fled.

The basement was the only cell left, again lined with mountain ash and an array of climbing frames lined the walls, a man-made jungle. One that hid the kanima from human eyes. The guards having learned from their early mistake, used an extendable arm to drop the sludge just within the ash border. They waited, watching for the kanima to come crawling down from above, waiting to see that whipping tail.

They were disappointed when Jackson came out from a hole, a cave that he'd dug up himself as a place to sleep. Dressed like any other prisoner, maintaining that human appearance he much preferred to scales.

"What, no tail today?" Moaned a guard, a few sulking away as Jackson picked up the plate of sludge.

"Just because you look human, doesn't mean we'll treat you like one." Said another guard, all of them leaving, Jackson listening to their footstep against the concrete stairs. His tail creeping out from under his shirt as it wrapped the plate and swung it over the ash border, crawling back to his cave.

Brunski was keeping a close eye on the cells from his security room, having watched each reject the food and lash out in their own ways. While they'd been here for weeks, months some of them. They still had some much energy that was beyond human, especially considering several of them are running on fumes.

He turned around to see Ms, Morrell stood in the doorway, glancing over at the screens and the animals on them, each having calmed down. Her gaze flicked up to Brunski, who shakily stood awaiting her words.

"I'm here to collect."


End file.
